Milkshakes
by Genetically Insane
Summary: America's milkshakes bring all the boys to the yard, and Englands like, your music's too loud, and he's like, I didn't hear you, cause the music's too loud.


He couldn't even think over the obnoxious music that was blaring outside. For three hours, the same song was playing.

And now, it was stuck in his bloody head!

Slamming his hands down onto his desk, sending papers into the air and on the floor, he gave up. His large eyebrows were twitching uncontrollably as he stormed out onto the front lawn where the obnoxious music was coming from.

_MY MILKSHAKES BRING ALL THE BOYS TO THE YARD_

_AND THEY'RE LIKE, IT'S BETTER THEN YOURS_

_AND I'M LIKE, I COULD TEACH YOUBUT I'D HAVE TO CHARGE_

Oh bollocks, it started again.

And the music was even louder outside. Go figure.

"AMERICA!" He shouted over the music. The tall blood at the table in front of his house didn't hear him, instead passing a large cup of…something to a little girl who beamed at him. Storming to the young man's side, he repeated is call right in his former-charge's ear, who flinched.

"OW!" nearly falling onto his side, America quickly regained his balance, like a hero would with manly grace, totally not flailing his arms about unheroically, and totally not smacking the shorter man's face with said flailing. "JESUS England, you scared me!"

Cursing as he held his now bleeding nose, the brit glared at America. "And you broke my nose!" he hissed. "Now turn off your bloody music!"

"What?"

"TURN OFF YOUR MUSIC!"

Blinking in confusion, America reached over to the iPod dock and pressed a button, halting the music. "Whatcha say? I couldn't hear you over my music. Gosh never knew you could be as quiet as Canada."

Not bothering to ask who the hell Canada was, England just snapped his nose back in place and let his hand fall onto his hip in a definitely not feminine way. "Really?" he snarled sarcastically. "I never would have guessed."

"So, what's up, Iggy."

"Don't call me that, you git!"

"But—"

"NO." Taking a deep breath through his mouth to calm his already tested nerves, the United Kingdom closed his eyes, his eyebrows still furrowed. "What are you doing out here anyway, that requires that blasted music?"

Opening his eyes again, England saw the North American nation smile one of his beautiful-ERR, ANNOYING, yes, annoying grins. He seemed you bounce in excitement when to motioned dramatically at his table, a blender, cooler filled with ice-cream (not ice cream buckets, the cooler actually was completely filled with ice-cream, Neapolitan it looked like) and jugs of milk. "I'm making milkshakes!" he exclaimed happily.

They were silent for a moment, the American clearly waiting for a response from his elder, who just stared at him with a bewildered expression.

Snapping out his trance, he brought his hands to attempt to massage his headache away. "Let me get this straight…" he sighed. "You are selling Milkshakes on the roadside, like Lemonade or Iced Tea, in front of my house, blasting Milkshake by Kelis—"

"You know who it's by?"

"—for no reason what so ever."

America's eyes widened, put his hand over his heart dramatically. "For no reason?" he said, appalled by England's words. "Do I ever do anything for no reason, Iggy?"

"Don't—"

"It's to save my economy!"

Silence overcame them once again.

Giving up to try and understand his former colony, England turned on his heel and returned to his house, the plan to drown out the annoying music, which would undoubtedly start up again, with The Beatles (read: The Spice Girls) already fully formed in his head.

Shrugging his shoulders and already forgetting the interruption, America smiled brightly and pressed play once again.

_LA LA-LA LA LA_

_WARM IT UP_

_LA LA-LA LA LA_

_THE BOYS ARE WAITING_

Nodding his head to the music, he sat back down on his chair and flipped open is Cosmopolitan-ERR, MAXIM! Yes, Maxim Magazine. Cause Cosmo was CRAP. …AND FOR GIRLS… And he was SO manly it was almost unhealthy.

Pulling a pencil from his pocket, he hummed along with the music as he filled out the "Are you way too good for him" quiz.

~0~0~0

_Don't ask. Just... Don't…_


End file.
